A Damning Dime

A Memory:

When I was a young girl, probably around five or six years old, I was so very proud that I knew how to spell my name.  NOT ONLY could I spell it, but I could WRITE it as well as the best of ’em!!  I assume I probably wrote it on my coloring books, finger-painted it on my refrigerator masterpieces, and saw it up in LIGHTS in my mind……………………………………………….

We would go to church every week, and on one particular Sunday, my mother gave me a dime for when the offering basket passed by.  At that age, there were no problems in tossing dimes into baskets like coins into a wishing well.  It was like playing a miniature basketball game in the middle of church!  Slam dunk! Swish!

But until the basket came by, it was just me and my dime in the front pew.  I am quite sure that the pastor was talking about something quite interesting for the adults, but for a small child, it was not something that would be considered enthralling. 

I began daydreaming and considering my options.  The basket had yet to be passed, but I began to warm up on my dime-tossing.  Toss up, catch, toss up, catch….bored again.  What else is there to do?  All of the adult voices around me are just a bunch of blurbs streaming into my ears, not making any sense. 

Then genius struck!  Everyone needed to know how beautifully I could write my name.  They should know!  They should all be PROUD!!  I looked around for a few minutes..no one was paying attention.  Not yet…..and that is when I brought the lovely, ridged piece of metal to the finish on the pew.  The dime was JUST the right size for manipulating like a writing utensil.

**scratch, scratch**


**scratch, scratch**


**scrape, scratch**


There!!! Perfect!! Everyone and their mothers would be so impressed with my magnificent ability to mark down these letters!!  Not only did I write my name, but I created a sculpture!  A piece of intricate art!  HOLY ART!!!!!

………………………………….I waited for someone to see it

……………………….it was beautiful!

…………….and such a creative use of a ten cent piece!

…….I continued to wait for someone to notice…


No one was impressed.

I entered the land of trouble.

Damn Dime.

8 thoughts on “A Damning Dime

  1. The father at our church used to say something referring to “the darkness” duringevery sermon and it useems to start my friend and I off thinking about “I believe in a thing called love” by The Darkness every single time for about 8 years.
    Also you created some holy scripture right there :) x

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